


Marvel: Internet War

by Lasgalendil



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Ms. Marvel (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Bucky Barnes, Boys In Love, Bucky Barnes Returns, Bucky Barnes-centric, Coming Out, Jewish Bucky Barnes, Kamala Khan is such a fangirl, M/M, Peter Parker is a little shit, Podfic Welcome, Steven Grant Rogers' Star Spangled Ass, US History teachers are so fucking done with this shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-22 02:13:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6066757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lasgalendil/pseuds/Lasgalendil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes vs. The Internet</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky Barnes was a household name, a hero straight out of the history books, a vintage children’s toy, a limited edition release collectors card (and, as it later turned out, the motherfucking Winter Soldier). There wasn’t a child alive in America who didn’t know the story and sacrifice of James Buchanan Barnes.
> 
> Bucky Barnes was also quite clear: only Steven Grant “That Star Spangled Ass” Rogers got to call him that. 
> 
> …No, really. Peter was not making this shit up. It was right there on the guy’s twitter handle.

Bucky Barnes was a household name, a hero straight out of the history books, a vintage children’s toy, a limited edition release collectors card (and, as it later turned out, the motherfucking Winter Soldier). There wasn’t a child alive in America who didn’t know the story and sacrifice of James Buchanan Barnes.  
  
Bucky Barnes was also quite clear: only Steven Grant “That Star Spangled Ass” Rogers got to call him that.  
  
…No, really. Peter was not making this shit up. It was right there on the guy’s twitter handle:

  
  
@Don’tCallMeBucky  
  
Only Steven Grant ”That Star Spangled Ass” Rogers gets to call me that

  
  
The account appeared to the world at large about 24 hours before the man himself, his full, signed confession in strings of 144 characters, selfies at each major city or landmark near the sites of destruction with links to the news reports…or, you know, leaked classified documents. Some the Widow’s doing, and some his very own handiwork.  
  
James Barnes had essentially cut out the middle man, jumped ahead of the press, and gone straight to his judge, jury, and executioner. The dude was a war hero, political prisoner, HYDRA Assassin with multiple kill counts on every continent. As it stood, fucking _Sealand_ was his best bet for a fair trial.

  
  
[Stark’s idea, of course…and because it was Stark’s idea, it started off as a joke became a reality. Iron Man’s first move after procuring the place was proclaiming James Barnes the nation’s sole diplomat and himself President and Dictator for Life.]  
  
[Peter would never tire of fastidious Pepper Potts being introduced as Her Majesty the CEO and President of Stark Enterprises. Deez Nuts ’16 had nothing on Pepper’s smug-yet-oh-so-professional-and-refined poise.]

  
  
“I mean, really,” Barnes drawled lazily into the camera, one eyebrow raised, blue eyes and half-smirk set to stun. “Was the Winter Soldier ever going to be tried anywhere else but the court of public opinion?”  
  
  
The dude was young, hot, a real-life badass action hero with a cynical streak a mile wide and a vulnerable side he played just right to the camera. Add that to the hair and the tragic woobie backstory and the world never knew what hit them. The Internet existed, Peter was sure, because the Universe knew one day James Buchanan Barnes would come into Existence and require Worship.  
  
James Barnes was the GOD of Tumblr.  
  
And Twitter.  
  
And YouTube.

  
  
[Because, and Peter shat you not, in the words of Barnes himself, “Fuck facebook.”]

  
  
James Buchanan Barnes had, it was conceded, officially won the internet. After rising from the dead, blowing up half of DC, rampaging across the world and either a) assassinating the shit out of HYDRA or b) maiming the fuck out of HYDRA on camera until they divulged state secrets to the world then uploading them to fucking YouTube Snowden style or c) scaring the ever-living shit out HYDRA until they turned themselves in because Dear fucking Lord, life in Gitmo was a hundred billion times better than being on the receiving end of a guy your organization had tortured and brain washed over the last seventy years, The Winter Soldier had finally come home to roost.  
  
…literally. The dude strode up to the Avengers Tower in broadfucking daylight, made out with Captain America with all the gusto and finesse of a porn star under the collective watchful eyes and guns of Stark’s private security, the remnants of SHIELD, the Avengers, and the US Government before disappearing up the lobby steps, carrying Steven Grant Rogers bridal style, lips still locked in place.  
  
And that, Peter learned on Tumblr and then again via history class the next week, was how Captain America and Not-Bucky Barnes came out of the closet after 70 plus years of speculation. They watched the news clip of two 90 year-old men sucking face, and Mrs. Spinoza had sighed, shrugged, and muttered something suspiciously like ‘I give up’, and tossed their textbook unceremoniously in the trash.  
  
But unlike Cap’s righteous fury and boner for liberty and justice for all, his poised yet still passionate responses of ‘no comment’ and reclaiming conversations and questions about his sexuality by reframing them into sermons about equality, representation, the appalling state of sexual education in America, media exploitation, and the right to privacy, James fucking Barnes would all out _destroy you._  
  
James didn’t do official  interviews, of course (Peter had tried and tried and tried,  for his school paper column, his personal blog, and even by abusing his press pass with _The Daily Bugle_ ). Even the unflappable Pepper-I’ve-dealt-with-Tony-Stark-how-bad-could-it-be Potts refused to put him in front of the press. The guy was a walking PR disaster. So no, James Barnes did what any sick fuck with 70 years of assassin training under house arrest would do: he took to taking down Steve’s bullies on the internet.  
  
You question Cap’s sexual orientation? James Barnes would have a list of your own sexual indiscretions posted within 24 hours, complete with links of your most watched porn.  
  
You took (and published) paparazzi photos of Steve?  James Barnes would dox you.

You tried to take and publish sexually explicit photos of Steve? James Barnes would hack you, post your dick pics all over your social media.  
  
You troll Steve or make some sex-pun user name or fake official site? James Barnes would personally call up _your mom_ and send her the link.  
  
Call Steve Rogers a fag? James Barnes would email it to your partner. Your employer. Post it on your social media, get you fired. You’d never be hired, never find a date again. James fucking Barnes would _erase you._  
  
The Avengers had a press conference after one of Barnes’ “victims” committed suicide, stating the loss of his job, inability to get hired, the loss of fiance, child, and family support as well as friends left him with no option but to kill himself due to Barnes’ bullying.  
  
“Good,” James grunted, before even Steve Rogers could stop him.  
  
Later, after the ensuing fiasco, the Winter Soldier donned his old regalia and had a brief q and a, supervised by a very, very frowning Pepper Potts and a sterner-than-usual—faced Maria Hill. “Let me clarify: when I said ‘good’, I was being insensitive. Don’t get me wrong: I’m glad that bastard is dead. I regret he was such a selfish asshole that he killed himself in the subway and subjected other people to that sort of trauma. What a dick.”  
  
Peter Parker was in love.  
  
…and so, it turned out, was Steven Grant “That Star Spangled Ass” Rogers. No, really. The guy’s Instagram was nothing but pictures of cuddling, kissing, soft sweaters, and the motherfucking Winter Soldier’s most recent cooking disasters.  
  
Complete with recipes. And a bit of alien-punching on the side.  
  
Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were memes. Pop culture icons. YouTube stars.  Instafamous. They made the term ‘Instahusband’ look cool.  
  
…not to mention made #socialjusticewarrior as badass as it had always sounded.  
  
It was all so adorable, really, it was enough to make Peter puke.  
  
But it was perfect, really, wasn’t it?  Finally, fucking finally, they all got to see what happily ever after looked like.  
  
And if it happened to look suspiciously like (consensually taken and published photos of) Steven Grant Roger’s Star Spangled Ass in all its glory…well. Peter Parker, for one, wasn’t complaining.


	2. James Barnes: Avenger, Assassin, Professional Internet Troll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So teaming up with the Avengers was cool and all, but her ammi and baba would kill her if she knew the sort crap that came out of their mouths. For all Captain freakin’ America’s squeaky-clean public image, the crowd he rolled with was rough.
> 
> …like, really, really rough.
> 
> Like some of these words she didn’t actually know but would totally be looking up later, sort of rough.

Soooooo….  
  
Teaming up with, THE ACTUAL AVENGERS (SQUEEE!) was cool and all, but _hoooboy_ , her ammi and baba would kill her if she knew the sort of shi—crap! that came out of their mouths. For all Captain freakin’ America’s squeaky-clean public image (minus the whole, making out/marrying the Winter Soldier bit…), the crowd he rolled with was _rough_.  
  
…like, really, _really_ rough.  
  
Like some of these words she didn’t actually know but would totally be looking up later, sort of rough.

  
  
[Not that she’d actually USE them, but um, you know. Fanfic. Research. Realism. Give a girl a break!]

  
  
Right now they were fighting aliens—aliens?—sure, she’d go with ‘aliens’ and the fact that none of the other (ha! other—because SHE was ONE OF THEM NOW!) Avengers were freaking out about this in the slightest would probably be cause for concern if it weren’t so freaking cool. I mean, teaming up with Wolverine was one thing, but Captain America? _And_ Black Widow? _And_ Iron Man? _And_ the Falcon? Friggin' HAWKEYE—??? She was going to die. Just die. Totally dead. (In a good way. Not actually _dead_ dead.)

  
…She hoped.)  
  
…and The Winter Soldier. Kamala was still not-quite-sure how she felt about the Winter Soldier. Dude was obviously not the terrorist/war criminal/bad guy the news had made him out to be because he’d been like, friggin’ brainwashed and he’d pled guilty anyways because, like, that’s what Captain America would/should do and he didn’t want to make Steve look bad and she’d only written like, 20 fanfics about that trial alone…but still. THE WINTER SOLDIER. Not-Bucky Barnes was pretty cool online and stuff, but The Winter Soldier was entirely terrifying. Like, there were actual space invaders rampaging and she was evacuating buildings with freakin’ Spider Man (and totally not asking for his autograph nosireebob because that would be unprofessional but they were technically amateurs and ‘honorary’ Avengers on ‘non-combat duty only’ for today’s impromptu “training exercise” so really, it would technically be okay) because civilians might, die, or something, and there were guns and explosions and she was pretty sure those were dead bodies yep dead bodies ooooookay she was gonna try not to think about that too hard, no siree, but The Winter Soldier was still the creepiest, scariest, most unnerving thing here by FAR. Why he didn’t get, she didn’t know, a makeover, new costume, new name, anything was beyond her, the press, and probably anyone who didn’t want to lose their fingers painfully one by one then be buried alive in an unmarked grave for all of eternity so no one really dared to ask or question except Fox News, and like Not-Bucky Barnes said, “Fuck them.”

  
(Sorry, Ammi.)

  
  
And thaaat's when Iron Man cut in with, “Alright, Team, let’s give these Kree cunts a run for their money—“  
  
“Tony, language!” Cap called over the comms.  
  
“Ha! Barton owes me a beer. He bet I couldn’t get you to say it again.”  
  
“There are children present. _Please._ ”  
  
“Hey!” Spiderman objected. "We're not kids!"

"That's adorable," The Winter Soldier growled. "You really think either of you have ' _secret identities'_? Neither of your asses is as old as you say you are."  
  
“Pshaw, Cap—I _can_ call you Cap? Or Captain America? Or Captain Rogers—I mean I can’t call you _Steve_ because that would be way _weird_ —I can take it!“ Kamala argued/babbled/fangirled, but only slightly.  
  
“C’mon, Eagle,” Barnes agreed with her—AGREED WITH HER!—then took a shot as a Kree head went splort! right above her and he hit it straight through the eye from like, a half a mile away or something. Dude was africkin’mazing with a sniper rifle, that’s all she was saying and she was totally helping this little old lady down the stairs and paying attention to her surroundings and NOT fangirling, not at all and not slipping in Kree blood and thank goodness for a magically embiggening bottom, else that fall would’ve hurt, and old Mrs. Lopez would’ve busted a hip and it would’ve been totally all her fault.   “Ms. Marvel’s an Avenger. Same as the rest of us.”  
  
“Negative, Bluejay. You’ll all mind your manners and call signs and follow protocol on the comms. There’s—“  
  
“…is it because she’s a dame? It’s because she’s a dame, innid’it?” Barnes teased.  
  
“No!” Cap insisted. “Yes! That’s not what I meant—!”  
  
“Really, Eagle?” Black Widow (BLACK FRIGGIN’ WIDOW!!!!) asked. “Because you’ve got no problem swearing in front of me.”  
  
“…she’s _Muslim_ ,” Cap groaned. Aw, how sweet! Captain America was a complete sweetheart! “I’m just asking you all to _be respectful_.”  
  
“We ain’t in church, shithead,” Barnes chuckled.  
  
“Mosque,” Kamala corrected.  
  
“Jesus, kid, give a Yid a break, okay? You know the last time my sorry ass has been to temple? Nineteen fuckin’ forty.”

  
  
[Kamala reeeeeally wasn’t sure how that was…relevant? But she wasn’t going to say anything. You DID NOT ARGUE with the Winter Soldier. The guy was brain-damaged. Also could kill you.]

  
“Bluejay, you never _went_ to temple.”  
  
“Only ‘cause _your ma_ was busy draggin’ my ass to mass.”  
  
“They weren’t even on the same day and you did not just bring my mother into this!”  
  
“Wait, you’re Jewish? You’re JEWISH?! HOW DID I NOT KNOW THAT—?!”  
  
“That gonna be a fuckin’ problem?” The Winter Soldier drawled, from the other end of his frickin’ huge sniper scope.  
  
“What? NO!” Kamala gushed/gawked/squacked. “It’s just—I’m like—totally—probably—the biggest Howling Commandos fan ever! How did I not know that?”  
  
“Because the fuckin’ USO didn’t think it was good for the war effort, hard to get the American People riled up about truth, justice, and the American way if Cap’s best guy’s a fuckin’ kike. Or a fuckin’ queer. They cut that part out, too.”  
  
“Language, Bluejay!”  
  
“Which one, babydoll?” Babydoll—? Barnes called Cap ‘babydoll’? This was TOO MUCH! “You know I got plenty.“  
  
“Bluejay—“ Cap frowned—yes, _frowned_ , over the Comms.  
  
“‘Though I know how fond you are of _Gaeilge_ —“  
  
“Bluejay!”  
  
“And you get so damn fuckin’ hard when I call you _a ghrá_ —“  
  
“Bucky!”  
  
“Yeah, m’hmm, Stevie, _love_ it when you say my name just like that—“  
  
“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES YOU STOP IT THIS INSTANT OR I SWEAR TO EVERLOVING CHRIST ALMIGHTY I WILL CUT YOUR COMMS—“  
  
“Jesus, Stevie. I was only joking. You and I both know Sashka likes it better when you talk dirty in _po Rooskie_.”  
  
“Uh, who’s Sashka?” Kamala asked, forgetting 1) herself, 2) the mission, 3) the context of this really weird conversation and 4) it was James Friggin’ Buchanan Barnes speaking and she most certainly DID NOT WANT TO KNOW.  
  
“Bucky—“  
  
“Well, kid—“  
  
“Bucky!”  
  
“I’m not sure if you’ve covered it yet in biology class—“  
  
“BUCKY!”  
  
“—Or Sunday School—“  
  
(“Mosque,” she corrected automatically.)  
  
“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES I SWEAR TO CHRIST—“  
  
“—but Sashka is my penis.”  
  
It might be, New York, and like, a battlefield with an alien invasion and the Assembled Avengers and all, but really, you could hear a pin drop…followed by incoherent what-must-be swearing in Irish Gaelic as Cap lost his apple-pie lovin’ _mind._  
  
“Uh, Barnes—er, Bluejay—“ Stark corrected as Captain America sobbed something about ‘comms’ and ‘call signs’ and ‘protocol’ and ‘worse than all the Howlies put together’, 'divorce' and ‘Jesus fucking Christ’ remotely in the background (and no less than five simultaneously shouted cries of “LANGUAGE!”).  
  
“I know I’m the last person to talk about a person’s sex life taking over their actual life…but too much, man. Too much," Iron Man continued. "I think you…um…I think you just _broke_ Cap.”  
  
“Nah, he’s still usin’ his words. _Broken_ ’s when he’s come for the fifth time and keeps forgettin’ to breathe,” Barnes drawled lazily as another Kree skull exploded over her. “ _Broken_ ’s like the nineteen fuckin’ thirties all over again.”  
  
She got Mrs. Lopez to the EMTs, waved for the cell phone cameras because _brown girl superhero!_ and _represent, duh!_ then dashed back in for more.  
  
…Oh, man. Kamala could not _wait_ to get home and write about this crap, exploding Kree skulls and all. It was going to be EPIC. She was going to have the most authentic, most well-researched, most widely-read and highestly acclaimed fanfic that freakingcool.com had ever seen. Like, even better than thedawnsearlylight’s.  
  
Ha. Who was she kidding? She was kidding. There was no way anyone could ever write a fic better than thedawnsearlylight. That girl could friggin’ write. Probably like, the most prolific, most historically accurate, like, best characterizations of the Avengers ever. Kamala couldn’t tell if she had like, a PhD in WW II and creative writing and military strategy or was just one of those crazy, creepy, stalker fans or secret HYDRA Agent or something because she swore some of the things in those fics seemed like, actual conversations the Avengers would have. She'd know--she'd gotten shwarma with them after.

* * *

There. 5,000+ words later, and Kamala crawled into bed into the deepest, most dreamy sleep she’d ever had. She _met_ the Avengers, _became_ an Avenger, got _Spiderman_ ’s friggin' autograph, and wrote the most badass fanfic ever published in the history of ever. And that was her actual life!  
  
She woke up and already had, like, 50 reviews!

  
  
‘wow this is so good just like thedawnsearlylight wrote it’

  
  
HUGE compliment! Her fangirling heart was gonna explode!!

  
  
‘so like thedawnsearlylight’

 

  
Wow—a lot of people were saying the same thing! This was AWESOME!

  
‘so derivative’

  
  
...Wait, what? She got a choking feeling deep in her throat. The hits kept coming:

  
‘blatant copy paste’  
‘flagging’  
‘omg poser’  
‘nice try’  
‘reporting’  
‘omg fu’  
‘does tdel know you’re stealing her stuff’

And that hurt! Flamers were so freakin’ mean! She’d _never_ steal another writers’s stuff—I mean, works ‘based on’ and ‘inspired by’, sure, but always credit where credit was due! She clicked over to dawn's tumblr, and sure enough, she'd updated.

Oh. Oh, what-? For a moment Kamala rubbed her eyes, couldn't believe it, thought she must be going crazy, MUST have plagiarized because this was the exact same friggin' fic as hers!  
  
…wait, wait, what—? thedawnsearlylight’s fic was posted several hours AFTER hers? This girl she’d hero-worshipped and reblogged and followed and only sorta kinda stalked just a little was stealing her fic?  
  
Unfriggin’ believable! No wonder she’d gotten so popular so quickly! The nerve, that, that _haraamzadi!_ (sorry, ammi, abu, Sheikh Abdullah) , going around and stealing ideas from younger, less experienced writers then polishing them up and passing them off as her own and using her popularity and fans to bully them into silence! Oh, she was FURIOUS!  
  
So Kamala sat down and did what any respectable fangirl/superhero would do at six thirty in the morning on a school day when she still had math homework that wasn’t quite done yet: she left a politely worded, passive aggressive review on a work that could only be described as blatant copy paste with some lucky liberties thrown in because there’s no way anyone else could actually _know_ that stuff ‘cause no one else was _there._  
  
…and send!  
  
She checked her phone during lunch. thedawnsearlylight had replied!

  
  
jesus kid give a yid a break

  
  
Wait.  
  
…Wait.  
  
…WAIT, WHAT—?  
  
But that’s…that’s what Barnes had said…  
  
…THEDAWNSEARLYLIGHT WAS BUCKY BARNES—????!  
  
Bucky Barnes wrote rpf about himself and Steve and posted it to freakingcool.com.  
  
Her favorite fanfic author was Bucky Barnes.  
  
Wait, could you even call if fanFIC if it wasn’t fictional—?  
  
Then—  
  
OH. MY. GOD.  
  
Allahu akbar! So apparently Captain America really _did_ like it when the Winter Soldier ‘plunged his metal hand fist first into his Star Spangled Ass’—?  
  
In the medical bay?  
  
…ON THE QUINJET??  
  
…STEVE ROGERS AND BUCKY BARNES WERE ACTUALLY FUCKING ON THE ACTUAL QUINJET LIKE TEN FEET AWAY FROM HER???  
  
She put her head in her hands. Nakia asked if she was okay.  
  
…Really, Barnes. There was such a thing as Too Much Information, even in the digital age.

* * *

“So here’s the thing,” Barnes said over a mug of cocoa on his latest vlog, TheManWithTheMetalArm. “I’ve been… dishonest with you. All of you. For the last couple of months, I’ve been running a social experiment. Time to fess up. I’m sure you’re all well aware of the fanfic surrounding the Avengers, and by now you’ve all heard that an IP address associated with Stark Tower has been posting erotica about several of the members of the Avengers…namely, myself and Steve. It’s all over, and exclusive with The Daily Bugle.  
  
“That wasn’t a leak. That wasn’t investigative journalism. An anonymous source?” he pinched his face up, as if to say, _bitch, please_. Then— “Bitch, please, it was me, and it was _deliberate_.”  
  
…could we talk about how much Kamala frickin’ loved James Buchanan Barnes? Murderbot Soviet Assassin and all? The guy was so darn adorable. And snarky as hell. She didn’t know how he managed both simultaneously.  
  
Could we also maybe talk about how many mixed feelings she had about him? Like, cool, but also, not cool? Like, it was fine to read that sort of thing about people when it was FICTIONAL but there’s just some stuff she did NOT want to know.  
  
“I wanted this whole shit storm. In fact, I created it.  
  
“That’s right. I’m thedawnsearlylight.  
  
“So a guy writes an erotic real person fic. When it’s fanfic, it’s considered a work of expression and art…but reveal that same work to be a memoir and suddenly it’s inappropriate, it’s pornographic, and too much information and really, people 'don’t want to know that sort of thing about national icons and personal heroes' despite being members of a huge fucking fanbase who write that shit and reblog and post artwork all the time. You ‘don’t want to know’? Really? Fucking hypocrites.  ‘Cause my work was always labelled as ‘real person’, meaning the reader was already damned well aware that the people depicted aren’t characters. These are real people’s lives being _invaded,_ real people’s privacy being _ignored_. Well. It didn’t damn well stop you from objectifying them, did it? You want me to stop posting intimate details about my sex life with my husband online? Great. Then you can _cut it the fuck out_ and I’ll return the fucking favor.”

Barnes took a luxurious sip of cocoa, licked whipped cream and cinnamon from his ridiculously red lips (no, really, the guy had a great complexion, beautiful blue eyes, and looked great in shades of lipstick that would make Kamala's face seem pasty in comparison. It was so not friggin' fair!) with a pink tongue, set his mug down, and continued.  
  
“I got nothing against freakingcool.com, AO3, or fanfiction.net—hell, even adultfanfiction.net. I think it’s great that there’s these safe, sexpositive spaces for today’s youth to explore themselves and their sexuality. It’s fantastic, and it’s been so goddamned helpful for me and I’m a fucking adult…although Stevie might argue that last one," the corners of his eyes and lips twisted into that half-smirk half-smile that the world had come to know and collectively sploosh/swoon over. "But here’s the thing—there’s a difference between posting stories about the sexploits of fictional characters and people in real life. One is art. The other?”  
  
He leaned into the camera and sneered, that blood-red lipstick looking an awful lot like blood. Perhaps that was the point. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.  
  
“…Let’s just say I don’t need to be the one to tell you that there is no such thing as the ‘Pierce/Bucky Barnes’ ship. Old Man Winter. Fuck you. Fuck _all of you_. That wasn't dubcon, noncon, or whatever the fuck you have to call it to ignore what it was, and what is was was _rape_. I've had enough abuse at the hands of HYDRA, thanks. I don’t need to be reading about what you’d do with my ass if you thought there were no consequences. Because I've had seventy fucking years of that shit. You wanna ship people? You wanna write porn? Fuckin’ great. Go write it about _someone fuckin’ fictional else.”_  
  
_Ooookay,_ Kamala Khan sighed. Barnes had a point—it wasn’t as if he was against fanfiction or sex or erotica or anything like that (Allah save her if Ammi ever heard her think that!). I mean, the guy wrote _fantastic_ porn. She didn’t delete her account, her fanfics…but she deleted her rpf, anything that was an invasion of privacy, even though it pained her, 1,000 upvotes, reviews and all.  
  
…Oh, well. There was always _[Check, Please!](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/post/57705111693)  
_


End file.
